The Scenic Rim

My last ‘catch-up-with-mate’ stay was also my launch pad for six months exploring more of Queensland. Dale and Amanda live at Mt Tambourine, on the eastern side of The Scenic Rim. The Scenic Rim was formed over a period of 3 million years about 23 million years ago, and is the remnants of a huge volcanic caldera of a number of (then) active volcanoes. With the van parked for a few days in a nearby storage facility and a willing chauffeur, I was able to get my head around what the next few days might reveal.

Now, when I say huge, the total area of The Scenic Rim is 4,254 square kilometres. From one side to the other, you’re looking at around 100klms. All the magic is in the ‘rim’ part. The valley floor could be anywhere in rural Australia. Mt Tambourine and surrounds are a sub-tropical paradise, with lush rain forest and cute little villages with all the knick-knack shops and bakeries a day trip from the Gold Coast would merit. Speaking of which, the views down to the Gold Coast, both day and night are spectacular.

My goal was Lake Moogerah away to the south-west. It sounded great, so with the van now back in tow I headed down through the valley, past Beau Desert to a free camp on the Cunningham Hwy at Fassifern. Now, technically, the Fassifern Memorial Rest Area has a 20 hour limit, but given the Scenic Rim Shire Council is 50klms away, I’m guessing policing that is not high on anyone’s priority list. With that in mind, I parked discreetly for three nights, illegally undisturbed.

Lake Moogerah was only 20klms from Fassifern. Research had indicated that this was a go to location and a free camp. It was certainly ‘day’ free, and I had a good look around while I was there. There were overnight van spots available, but at $45.00 per night, well…. Had a quick chat with one of the overnighters who lamented that there were more terms and conditions on his receipt than a Telstra contract. That was enough for me.

It was now mid-afternoon and a 30 minute drive to another potential lay-up, Lake Maroon. A bit of a hairy descent was compounded by the main lake access being closed for roadworks. I had one last chance. A sign pointed to a boat ramp somewhere nearby. Saved!!! The boat ramp was closed, but a 200 metre long cul-de-sac, park side and lakeside, wide and empty, beckoned me in. And there, I quietly took up ‘digs’ for a couple of nights, enjoying the solitude and the views.

There are many trails and climbs to choose from, but with one eye on the clock, I had to make a choice. The recent torrential storms had closed off a couple of options with washouts etc., but the glossy tourist guide told me that Mt Barney with its triumvirate of volcanic extrusions was the best and brightest, and not to far away. The weather had become quite average, so I headed to Rathdowney for a poke around until the sun came out again. It’s a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it village, but it has one of the best local history museums/Visitors Information Centre I’ve seen. It’s not big, but the history and attention to detail made for a fascinating 30 minutes.

I set up for the night at a roadside rest area. On good local advice, I unhitched the next morning outside the local Bowlo and set off, completely unaware of the challenge that lay ahead. The Jeep must have sensed something, because it wasn’t it’s usual spirited self – but more on that later. The drive to the Mt Barney National Park took only 15 minutes and worryingly, the close I got, the steeper Mt Barney loomed. All jagged and rocky, I was already looking askance at possible routes to the top.

The map at the trail head showed several trail options, two to the top of the mountain and a couple of side trips. I decide to take the shortish climb to Yellow Pinch Lookout, as a warm-up to get a better idea of what I was in for. Well, that “shortish climb” was steep and unrelenting and even from the vantage point of the lookout, I was both daunted and discouraged by this rearing monolith in front of me.

The odds of me not attempting this climb shortened dramatically when I noticed a helpful, if blunt advisory when I returned to the gate that led into Mt Barney National Park. It certainly was pulling any punches. Nothing like a perspective to make your choices crystal clear. As I was ruing the obvious, a lone hiker came up from the trailhead and we walked down towards the first gate. He was carrying a backpack that would not look out of place on the slopes of Mt Everest. I, on the other hand, had a day pack containing a sandwich, a can of Solo and a banana. He was going to the summit to spend the night, catching both the sunset and sunrise AND he was a mountain climber, and now clearly, I was not.

We parted company at the trail entrance. He disappeared into the forest and I headed straight on, pulling Plan B out of the my pocket – Cronan Creek Falls. Clearly I had chosen…wisely. A fire trail gradually climbing into the back of the valley, undulating but not onerous. There were a couple of creek crossings to navigate and a couple of campgrounds for the tenters along the way. I had no idea how far I’d have to walk, but Google maps had me inching ever closer. I could have easily missed the unposted, narrow track leading off to the falls and five minutes later I arrived.

Let’s just say that it was a ‘modest’ falls, but very pretty nevertheless. On a hot summers day, couldn’t think of a nicer spot, however finding a place to sit involves a somewhat risky scamper up the smooth boulders on your left. I was toying with the idea of a swim, but at that very moment, a cold wind blew down the falls and across the pool, a warning I heeded and set off on my return. Cronan Creek followed my return, disappearing into deep gullies, occasionally spilling into pools along the way.

Finally back to the trailhead and the Jeep. There was something NQR about the performance -sluggish on the uphills. When I got back to the van mid-afternoon, a call to my mechanic back in Mt Isa and the Jeep was apparently in ‘limp’ mode as a precaution. There was a problem with the intercooler, probably minor, but I needed to find a mechanic before too long. I found one in Warick who could see me first thing in the morning. Getting there is a story in itself – next time.